


Hold your horses (Hold me)

by guineagirl5, saltstuck



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barrel racing, Billy being an asshole, Dustin being Dustin, Horses, M/M, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington is a good mom, boys being dumb, horse riding, ranch au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineagirl5/pseuds/guineagirl5, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltstuck/pseuds/saltstuck
Summary: Steve rolls his eyes as he watches Dustin interact withBillylike he's the coolest thing sincea western saddle. Little does Dustin know that the whole time he was yee-hawing withMonty, Steve had to endure a half-hour of Billy being annoying. Or intimidating him. Whatever.God, could this guy be more of a cliche? He's like Hollywood’s idea of the perfect cowboy; brown boots, faded blue jeans, red button-up shirt, golden skin, and long sun-kissed blonde curls. All he’s missing is the fucking hat.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler (Mentioned), Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler (past)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	Hold your horses (Hold me)

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this fic is gonna be a labor of love between saltstuck and I. But its so worth it, every second, and we hope you all find it worth it to read!
> 
> yee-haw at us on tumblr: [saltstuck](http://saltstuck.tumblr.com) & [guineagirl5](http://guineagirl5.tumblr.com)

Steve is zoning out while he drives, examining the lovely scenery of sloping green fields and endless dirt road when Dustin’s voice cuts through his reverie.

“Well... at least we’ll know someone who works there. Jonathan is pretty cool whenever he’s hanging around at Mike's.” In Steve's peripherals, Dustin shrugs like what he just said is _okay_. 

“Wait, Jonathan works there? You didn’t tell me that!” 

“Yeah, I _totally_ told you.” His face scrunches up in thought, betraying his statement. 

“No, you didn’t— what the _hell_ , Dustin. You can’t just spring that on me like this, we’re almost there!”

"But Nancy won’t be there, what's the big deal?" 

Steve shoots him an exasperated glare. “The ‘Big Deal’ is that I’m gonna be _hanging around_ with my ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend. It’s a little weird.” 

"You don't have to make conversation with the guy, Steve."

“Quit mom-ing me, dipshit. You’re twelve.” God, Steve can't believe he’s getting advice from _Dustin_ , of all people.

"I'm fourteen, Steve."

Steve waves a hand dismissively. "Same thing."

"It is _not_ the same thing! That's a whole two years!" Dustin’s voice breaks on a whine that makes him _sound_ like he’s twelve.

"Two years is nothing when you get older." 

"You're only eighteen, Steven." 

"Which is still older than you, dipshit. And would you stop calling me Steven? It’s Steve.” He shoves a hand at Dustin’s shoulder as best as he can. 

“Well, that’s your _name_ , isn't it? OH MY GOD—” Dustin breaks off mid-sentence to shove his face against the window. Steve jerks the wheel at the outburst.

“JESUS Dustin, _sit the fuck down_. And get your _fingers_ off the _glass!_ ” 

“But STEVE! WESTERN! That’s a WESTERN. SADDLE.”

Steve pointedly ignores him to get his car under control. "Uh-huh."

"You're not even looking!"

"I'm _driving_.” 

Steve doesn’t get how a _western saddle_ is exciting enough news to warrant nearly crashing his car but leave it to Dustin to find excitement in the most random places. He’s pretty sure the kid hasn’t even ridden western before, Steve definitely hasn’t, so he doesn’t really understand the difference. All he knows is it looks bulky and wrong, especially with the stirrups all stiff like that, like you'd spill out of the saddle if you made one wrong movement. Well, whatever the difference is, he’s sure he’ll hear all about it on the ride home.

Steve keeps driving up along the dirt road. On Dustin’s side, there’s a decent sized arena that sits empty. On the driver’s side is another arena, where several horses are tacked up and tied to various fence posts inside the ring. A couple of them look at Steve’s car with minimal interest before going back to picking at whatever grass they can reach or dozing off where they stand. He pulls his car into an empty spot on a dirt patch next to the filled arena. There’s a hand painted sign staked in the ground that reads “Student Parking”.

“At least we know we’re in the right place,” Steve says, ducking his head to get a better look out of Dustin’s window. 

“Well, yeah, you’re not _that_ bad at directions,” Dustin says, but it falls flat without his usual lilt of snark. Steve sits back to see Dustin shifting nervously in his seat. Here Steve is, worried about his non-existent love life, and he hasn’t even asked how Dustin might feel about their first day at a new ranch. 

“Hey.” Steve’s change in tone draws Dustin’s attention and Steve offers him a reassuring smile. “I bet this place is going to be awesome. None of that fancy schmancy, competition shit. ” 

Dustin searches his face for a moment before smiling a little. “Yeah. And you’ll probably get better lessons here, anyway.”

“Exactly. Nothing to be nervous about now.” 

And just like that, Steve has a brand new inspiration for the day. Dustin always seems to pick himself and others up without realizing it. Steve only hopes he can do the same for Dustin.

“But if it’s not awesome, you say the word and we’re out of here, okay? No questions asked. You want out, I’m right behind you. Even if I'm in a lesson, I’ll jump off right then and there.”

“You can’t just jump off a horse, Steve. That’s dangerous.” Dustin shoots back incredulously but he’s fighting a smile and Steve knows his insecurities have been forgotten for the moment. 

“I can do it. I’m graceful. Like a ninja.”

That does the trick. Dustin laughs. “Yeah, yeah, okay, Steve.” He makes a move to get out of the car but Steve rests a hand on his shoulder to reel him back in.

“Just one last thing, buddy. Please, for the love of God, listen to your instructor. They already know everything about horses.”

Dustin sighs dramatically. “I got it, I got it,” his hand grasps at the door handle, “Can we go now?” 

Steve waits, just to make him squirm, then waves a hand. Dustin throws the door open and Steve follows, shaking his head. 

He takes a deep breath. There are two things that stay the same no matter the ranch: the smells and the sounds. The scent of dust and manure, the stamping hooves of impatient horses; He stands for a moment to take it all in, already relaxing. 

The place isn’t big. The grass isn’t manicured or simply doesn’t exist, especially on well trodden paths. There’s no covered arenas, it all has access to the sunshine and warmth of the day. The fences are made of crude cut wood but well constructed, not at all like the metal or polished wood boards at their old ranch. Farther up, a modest house sits in the distance, seperate from the ranch, and it's lined by a well kept garden of flowers and a vegetable patch. It’s nothing like their old ranch in all the best ways; this place feels like _real people_ live here. 

He sees a group of teens about Dustin’s age gathering at the fence of the occupied arena, laughing and joking. There’s no air of that competitive elitism that he saw in their other groups. 

Steve didn’t like the way people at the old ranch flaunted around their money. He used to be that guy, used to show off any chance he could get. But seeing the way they treated everyone else, seeing Dustin on the receiving end of bullying from the kids in his class… well, he’s not like that anymore. Doesn’t ever _want_ to be.

Plus, Nancy had only good things to say about this place. Steve trusts her judgment, but she’s not the one who rides, _Jonathan_ is. 

Ugh. Steve just hopes he doesn’t have to talk to him. 

He doesn’t get to stand still too long. Dustin shoulders his backpack and practically drags Steve by the wrist towards the arena. A blond woman is yelling instructions to the riders, obviously a woman in charge. She turns her attention to them as they get close. 

“Hello there! You must be our new students,” the woman says, hand outstretched. Steve takes her hand in a firm shake. Her smile is genuine, and her kind blue eyes remind him of his favorite teacher he had back in junior high. “I’m Delilah Walsh, the owner.” 

“Steve Harrington,” he says, “This is Dustin Henderson,” Dustin grins up at her, charming as always.

“Ah, right, well. I’m happy you two could join us! New students always create a buzz around here.” 

“Do you get a lot of new students?” Steve asks.

Delilah shrugs. “Not too often, we’re not as big as some of the other ranches. But it gives me more time to work with the students I do have. Speaking of… WILL!” 

A mousy looking boy behind Delilah, half hidden by the other teens, jolts at her yell. His big eyes grow even wider. Steve wonders, as he looks between Delilah's wide grin and Will’s startled expression, if this is a common occurrence. “You wanna give the little green here a tour?” 

“Green?” Steve wonders aloud. He can _see_ Will gulp from here. 

“Yeah, it means newbie. Green bean.” 

“Oh, I’m not new, I’ve ridden before—” Dustin breaks off when Steve clears his throat and shoots him a look. Delilah observes the exchange with an amused tilt of her head. 

“Good to know. Be sure to tell Joyce that, she’ll be your instructor.” She points to another woman, with messy brown hair who commands the attention of the group from within the arena.

Will makes his way to Dustin’s side. “She’s my mom.” 

“Really? That’s so cool!” 

Will brightens from Dustin’s excitement and Steve has a feeling they’ll be fast friends. It’s exactly what Dustin needs. Someone his _own_ age to hang out with, not a glorified babysitter.

“Why don’t you two start that tour?” Delilah urges, and Dustin nods enthusiastically. 

“And tell your brother that we’re headed his way if you see him,” she aims at Will as the two boys head for the barn.

“His brother comes here too?” 

“Yeah, Joyce and I have been friends for years. Her oldest son works here for me, and little Will there takes lessons.” 

“Hi, Jonathan!”

Steve tenses at Dustin’s yell and his stomach drops. 

It figures that Will would be Jonathan’s brother. Obvious, really. The resemblance is _uncanny_. They both have those haunted eyes and dark hair. 

And it's a fact already that Dustin is gonna be great friends with Will, so Steve is going to have to deal with his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend way more than intended. So much for not talking to the guy.

Jonathan passes the pair of boys with a wave. When he spots Steve, his steps falter and he balls his hands and sticks them back into his pockets. Awkward.

“H-hey Steve,” he mumbles when he finally walks up, lips drawn tight. Steve doesn’t know which one of them is more uncomfortable. 

Delilah glances between them. “Oh, you two know each other?” 

“Yup,” they say in unison. 

“Well, Jonathan will show you around and show you where you can stow your belongings. That makes things easy, huh?” 

Steve laughs feebly.

Delilah, Steve already loves this woman, clearly picks up on the tension but doesn’t mention it, just says, “...M’kay,” and leaves them to it. They both watch her walk away until there’s nothing left to pay attention to but each other. 

“So, uh... how have you been?” Jonathan asks, pointedly trying to fill the awkwardness. Steve hates it. Couldn’t Jonathan be an asshole or something? It’d be easier for Steve to hate him. Like he _feels_ he should. “Nancy mentioned that you were switching ranches.”

Steve cringes. “Look, no offense, man. But this is weird. So... can we just... not?” Steve’s heart pounds as the words spill out, itching to put this conversation behind him as soon as humanly possible. 

Jonathan stares for a few seconds, caught between shock and something else. But he just nods and says, “So, this is the barn and tack room...”

There are only three buildings that Steve can see, and Jonathan confirms as Steve follows him. The Walsh’s house, the hay and feed barn, and the tack barn. As Jonathan points them out, he stutters and hunches in on himself like he’s uncomfortable with his place in the universe. Steve’s skin crawls watching him. 

How can Nancy play companion to someone so unsteady? She’s always so _sure_ of herself, her spirit burns so bright. If she’s looking for someone boring and lame, she found him. But Steve thinks he could have been that for her. He could have been whatever she wanted him to be. He could have made her happy. If he had only gotten the _chance_.

Okay, he’s not being fair. He knows this. Nancy just didn’t love him back. Plain and simple. This other guy in front of him had _nothing_ to do with it.

Jonathan is still rambling on and Steve is only half-listening. His old stable was huge in comparison. Three of the Walsh’s tack barns could fit into one of his old arenas, so he's not all that worried about being able to find his way around. 

“Well... that's about it.” Jonathan laughs nervously once they return to the entrance of the stables. “Oh, and you can probably dress down a little.” 

Steve looks down. He’s got on his competition grade breeches and boots, brushed clean and spotless. Everyone else is in jeans and he is suddenly self-conscious, realizing that he must seem like an asshole trying to overcompensate for something. 

“Yeah, I probably can,” he lets out a strained laugh, rubs at his neck, “Well… alright. Thanks.” Then finally, _finally_ , Steve excuses himself to track down Delilah.

*****

Delilah gets Steve set up on a horse named Sparkles. Appaloosas are known to be stubborn but Sparkles really takes the cake. She seems to find it funny that Steve wants her to trot, or jump a pole, or literally do anything a horse should do.

“Sorry Steve, she's what I got right now,” Delilah tells him as he hops up after a good bit of struggling. “But I bet by the end of your first week, you’ll like her. She grows on ya.”

Steve thinks there's not a chance in hell of that happening. 

Delilah asks him to run through the fundamentals he already knows, says she wants to see what skill level he’s at. Which is fine, but Steve hates feeling _assessed_. She’s kind and forgiving though, gives him pointers and small corrections that have Steve feeling more calm on a horse than he’s felt in weeks.

Two hours later, he’s untacked and groomed prissy little Sparkles to be released back to pasture for the day with Delilah making sure he knows where things go. Steve lounges on a bench just outside of the now empty arena. It’s another half hour before Dustin will be done with his class and Steve passes the time by scrolling aimlessly through his phone. He keeps getting distracted, however, because someone is _hollering_ in the previously vacant ring. 

A rider is whooping at his horse while maneuvring around barrels at a full gallop. They’re fast, cutting corners with precision, and Steve would be impressed if it wasn’t so obnoxious. He’s so loud you can probably hear it from the other end of the complex, and if that wasn’t annoying enough, the guy keeps taking breaks to do slow laps around the ring and glancing over like he’s just _waiting_ for Steve to acknowledge him. 

Guess he spoke too soon about this place being asshole-and-competition free. What a fucking peacock.

“Oh, barrel racing! Steve!” 

He looks up to see Dustin racing down the path. He’s flushed and sweat-soaked, knees capped with fresh dirt and a bright smile stretching across his face; all signs of a good lesson. 

“Yeah, I saw,” Steve stands as Dustin blows past him for a better look. 

He sighs and follows, although he’s headed for his car while Dustin goes straight to the fence lining the pasture. The rider dismounts just as Dustin nears, boots sending up a cloud of dirt when they hit the ground, and Dustin’s shoulders sag. 

“Damn it, I missed it.”

“It’s only the first day, I’m sure you’ll have another chance, buddy.” Steve starts corralling him towards their parking spot before Dustin gets any crazy ideas, like asking the asshole for another show. 

Unfortunately, his car is parked right next to the gate so there’s really no way to avoid a run-in with the rider, who’s leading his horse out of the exit.

“That was AWESOME.” Dustin almost falls over himself, ignoring all formalities in favor of gushing over some stupid barrel racing.

Steve wants to strangle him. 

“Glad you enjoyed it, greenie. Saw you out taking your first class. What did ya think?” the guy smiles, relaxed. 

“It’s so cool here! The horse I'm riding is Fremont and he’s kind of an asshole, but his trot is really smooth!”

“Well, you tell Monty that Billy says to behave or else I’ll have some words for him.”

Dustin fists bumps Billy. “I will.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he watches Dustin interact with _Billy_ like he's the coolest thing since _a western saddle_. Little does Dustin know that the whole time he was yee-hawing with _Monty_ , Steve had to endure a half-hour of Billy being annoying. Or intimidating him. Whatever.

God, could this guy be more of a cliche? He's like Hollywood’s idea of the perfect cowboy; brown boots, faded blue jeans, red button-up shirt, golden skin, and long sun-kissed blonde curls. All he’s missing is the fucking hat. 

Steve attempts to get Billy’s attention to tell him to _move a little, please_ but the guy won’t fucking look at him. He’s about to move around the horse instead, but the giant buckskin gelding blocks his path. He’s all muscle and in great shape, sides heaving from the exciting jaunt. He stomps impatiently and Steve flinches when his tail flicks him in the face. Walking behind this horse is just _asking_ for a kick to the ribs.

“Hey Dustin, come on. I gotta get you home,” Steve hedges, trying as subtly as possible to tell this asshole to _move his damn horse_. 

He turns his glare to Billy, who is _still_ ignoring him. He grins down at Dustin and Steve tracks a bead of sweat as it drips along the slope of his neck, down a broad chest, and follows its course until it disappears underneath his loosely buttoned shirt. 

Steve swallows and drags his eyes back up just as Billy says, “Well, ain’t that a damn shame.” 

And that’s when he finally decides to make eye contact, _the asshole_ , smirking with his tongue between his teeth, his startling blue eyes lit with amusement, and it all but confirms that he knows exactly what he’s doing by blocking their path.

Steve’s face suddenly feels very hot.

“Suppose we should get out of their way, Axl,” Billy sighs. “See ya, kid.”

“C’mon,” Steve says again, more to himself than Dustin, turning his back on Billy once his horse finally moves out of the way.

“Bye, Billy!” Dustin salutes a wave and climbs into the passenger seat. 

Steve is quick to pull out of the parking lot, so ready to have the onslaught of weird fucking interactions of the day behind him, and he’s on the road without a second glance.

They’re ten minutes gone from the ranch when Steve remembers to do his surrogate-brotherly duty of asking questions. 

He turns the radio down and speaks into the silence. “How was it? Did you have fun?” 

Dustin doesn’t respond. He’s fast asleep.


End file.
